Thursday, June 16, 2011

The Humble Musings Of The Manhattan Monk 6/16/11

We are swimming with all our might, gasping for airEven when the rescue boat arrives, we still must get in and join in the rowEven when our paddle strikes the water, we must remember to pick up the anchorLose the dead weightShed the old skin

Picking up speed, naturally the sun rises on the horizon of our heartThe relief of homeward boundBees and scents of kadamba games and peacocksRelief from this dream that we have held onto for too longThe weight of this body, our expectations

Perhaps we are afraid to pick up speed, to life that anchorBut we have no choice, all hope lies dormant ready to shine.

***We must beg for our grace. We must ring it and squeeze it out, like sugarcane juice, from the Holy Name. Bringing our pure intention to our chanting, we make this offering to the specific grace that we need, our actual spiritual desire. Let that offering hold our attention tight to the Holy Name, let it make us cling with all of our might to the Holy Name, to Your sweet sound resounding.

Let our chanting be infused with the complete faith that it will free and purify us fully of all that we are not. Let us have no doubt about its supreme, invincible power. Let us have no doubt about its sweet touch. Let us never give up, never turn our gaze from this golden grace.

My name is Chris Fici, and I am studying to be a Hindu minister here in New York City. I have spent the last five years living as a monk of the Bhakti (devotional) tradition of Hinduism.

I live at the intersection of tradition and transformation, in my spiritual life, in this city, in this world. Join me as I share on this blog some of my writings, fascinations, and inspirations on being a spirit in the material world.